


suh welcome to hollister

by winchysteria



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Retail, Ficlet, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, hollister au lmfao why am i like this, honestly this is a hot mess, idk they work together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 19:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13794195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winchysteria/pseuds/winchysteria
Summary: maybe don't hit on your coworkers? but it's okay when ransom + holster do it





	suh welcome to hollister

"You're doing great, dude," Justin says, hoping the enthusiasm can make up for the untruth.

"I'm fucking tanking, man," Adam speed-whispers back before the next customer is close enough to hear.

Justin smiles encouragement at the new guy, then turns his grin on the woman piling tank tops on the counter. He's a veteran, because two years here counts as seniority, but that doesn't mean he can afford to get distracted on BOGO day. "Did you find everything okay today?" he asks, and the woman smiles back at him without replying.

Hollister is almost always kind of loud and kind of dark, but today it's at a full roar, what with the customers crowding the labyrinthine sale floor, and the employees trying to fold clothes and take questions at the same time. BOGO day means a line to get in the door, lines at the dressing rooms, lines at the cash registers, and he can't for the life of him imagine why the manager would bring someone in to be trained today. Like, Adam is catching on faster than anyone else Justin has ever trained, and he's very personable, and of course he's fucking hot, but he's still struggling to remember which button on the register does which. Justin peeks over to check on him, since he can barely hear what's going on, just in time to see Adam's face drop as a boy hands him three battered giftcards.

"Just swipe and submit and the pay button will pop right back up for the next one," he hisses to the terrified blond giant.

As he turns back to his own register, he hears Adam mutter "thanks, dude," in a baritone so rumbly that it makes Justin's knees wobble a little bit.

Here's the thing: when you work at Hollister, you sometimes get the hots for your coworkers. It's normal. Chris and Caitlin, for instance, banged it out in her car in the parking structure the first time they closed the store together. Derek and Will, Larissa and Shitty, even Eric and that Canadian model who'd been around for a promotion for like one afternoon-- it's almost like if you hire a bunch of hot young adults, turn the lights down, and leave them alone to spray cologne on each other, you encourage fraternization.

So, yeah, he wouldn't kick Adam out of bed. Like, Justin is almost always the tallest one, so having to look up at someone is, ah, intriguing. And he has these massive hands, and his bone structure is-- well. And Hollister t-shirts are pretty goddamn thin, so he knows the ab situation isn't shabby either. But he might also want to be best friends with this guy? Not everyone can come up with a line like "so I can use this shirt as smelling salts?" the first time they see what the perfume-spraying situation is really like.

Plus, he's kind of in charge of Adam. Like, he's not the manager or anything, he's just helping with training, but there has to be something weird about that too, right? Some sort of ethical issue? Technically, Justin isn't older or bigger, but there's something vaguely coercive in the idea of asking the trainee out during his first shift.

"Is there something wrong with the register?" the dude purchasing four pairs of jeans asks.

Justin shakes his head a little, hands back the credit card, snags the receipt as it prints. "Sorry, man. Just a busy day."

Somehow, blessedly, the end of his register line is in sight. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Adam's hands on the register. They're not as clumsy as they were. "Hey, you're catching on!" he enthuses, and gets a glittering-blue-eyed grin in response.

"I'm sure faking it," he replies.

Justin starts ringing up the next pile of v-necks. "Hey, no judgment, dude. After my first day here, I lay on the break room floor in the fetal position for so long that I almost got locked in."

Adam laughs and hits the wrong button. He has to restart the whole transaction. It's worth it.

And God must love Justin after all, because the shelves are so cleared out from the sale that the store is actually empty by eight. "Okay, man, me and Kent are doing closing duties, and you don't have to learn any of that stuff for another couple shifts, so you can go ahead and go home. You were legit awesome today."

"Thank God," Adam says. "Not that this wasn't a fucking riot, but I need to go smell literally anything else as soon as possible."

"Have a good night, man," Justin replies. _Suckhisdick suckhisdick suckhisdick_ , Justin's brain chants at him, unhelpfully.

Adam takes two steps out, then turns around. "Hey, are you working Thursday by any chance? That's my next shift."

"Damn. I'm actually not gonna be in from then till, like, Sunday." He's relieved to see his disappointment mirrored on Adam's face. "I know, I'm the best trainer you've ever had, and I've ruined you for anybody else."

Next to him, cashing out Adam's drawer, Kent snorts.

Adam shrugs his broad, broad shoulders. "What can I say? I only learn from the best."

Kent sighs judgmentally.

"Actually, you know what?" Justin says. "Why don't I just give you my phone number and you can text me if you have, like, any questions or anything."

Justin barely waits for his reply before jotting down his digits on a discarded receipt. He holds it out, pinched between the fingers of his left hand, for Adam to retrieve, and there's something deeply satisfying about the Adam-smile growing sunnier as he half-jogs closer. His fingers fumble against Justin's for a burning half of a second.

"That was exhausting to witness," Kent says, deadpan, as soon as the door shuts behind Adam's perfect ass. "Why don't you just, like, ask him if he wants to exchange sloppy handjobs in the back of your car?"

Justin's ears burn, and he restarts counting the nickels. "First of all, I don't have a car. Second of all, isn't it kinda creepy to proposition the new hire on his first fuckin' day, dude?"

"I mean, I can't be the answer to everything," Kent says. "But I know for a fact that that Chad Michael Murray motherfucker has a Jeep."

Ten minutes later, as he mops the floor underneath a rack of crochet shorts, Justin feels his phone buzz in his back pocket. Kent, who should absolutely not be able to hear from the next room over, shouts "Is that the new guy?" As much as Justin wants him to be wrong, it is, in fact, Adam. He opens the text and feels his stomach swoop down to the mantle of the earth and back up.

**+1 (617) 555-2840**

_Hey this is kind of weird to say but you're hot_

**+1 (617) 555-2840**

_fuck, this is adam. also ignore me_

**+1 (617) 555-2840**

_like for real i won't ever mention this conversation again if you won't oh my god why would i hit on someone who's at work_

**+1 (617) 555-7731**

_yo it's not weird if it's mutual_

Before he can lose his nerve, Justin hits send, pockets his phone, and begins mopping more frantically. "You better be texting his Malibu Ken ass back, Oluransi," Kent calls from the other room.

He's never closed the store so quickly, phone somehow literally burning in his pocket. By the time the back door locks behind him, Justin has four more new texts.

**Adam**

_Oh thank god._

**Adam**

_Wait thats a good thing right_

**Adam**

_ffs you can't do me like this_

**Adam**

_for the love of god please tell me in your most idiotproof way whether or not you think i'm cute_

Justin stops mid-reply to look up before he crosses the street to his bus stop. That's when he sees a gigantic blonde man, half in and half out of a godawful blue Jeep, staring at his phone with a gaze so intense it could cut sheet metal.

**Justin**

_does that monstrosity actually run or is it just for posing_

Adam looks up, startled, and Justin just smiles and starts across the pavement. He wants to yell something, but he's afraid that with the way everything's jumping around his diaphragm, it won't come out loud enough. Instead, neither of them say much before Justin's on the other side of Adam's open car door. "Got any big plans for the night?" he asks.

"Uh, no-- not yet," Adam replies with a nervous laugh.

"Great," Justin says casually, listening to the creak-grind-wheeze of a city bus stopping behind him. "Cause I just missed my ride home."

"Okay." Adam smiles so wide his crows' feet come out.

Justin can feel himself smiling that big, too. "Okay."

He can feel Adam's surprised inhale when Justin leans through the open car window, easy as anything, and kisses him. He pulls away, thinking intensely about the cool inside of Adam's lower lip, and spins to walk to the passenger side door. He pulls the door open and sees Adam standing exactly where he left him, looking a little dazed. Justin reaches in to tap the horn.

Adam jumps, then laughs. "I guess I did say idiotproof."


End file.
